Find Me
by Female-Fighter
Summary: "Even away from you I know we will meet again. That nothing will keep us apart. Even if I don't recognize your face I'm certain my heart will. We will pass this test I know this for a fact."
1. Waking Up

**Find Me  
Chapter 1**

**Disclaimer- **I own nothing!

A blurry world came into focus; the heat of the sun beaming down told the body it was hot. Opening eyes further one saw blue sky over them and grass under them. Sitting up they realized they had not a clue as to where they were or how they ended up here. Last thing they remembered, actually he couldn't remember anything. _Okay, try not to panic, you're alive and that's a good sign. You know you're in a park of some sort so someone must be able to tell you something. Think, think simple, think your name. My name, my name is Alan Humphries. Good, that's a start, now how old are you? My age, I, don't know. I stopped counting once I died. Wait, I died? But I am here, how can I be dead.  
_Grabbing his head Alan tried to get it to stop spinning from the fog that seemed to cloud everything. How did he get here, why could he remember nothing other than his name? Did he have a job, a family, friends, an apartment? Standing he tried to control the shakiness in his legs, they felt strange to be standing. Looking around his surroundings he noticed he saw a pond and a great field with people in it playing just across a short path. There were people in the grass area he awoke in as well; no one seemed to notice him though. Perhaps this was just a dream? Lifting his arm to pinch his skin he saw gloves on his hands and what looked like a suit on him. Was he a businessman? But, what was with the gloves? Perhaps he was a driver? Trying to think about it the haziness started to comb over his mind again. He couldn't even remember if he knew how to drive a car. Wait, maybe he had some id on him, something to help piece his mind together. Pulling off the gloves he stuck them in his mouth before checking his coat pockets. Feeling them empty he stuck his gloves in the one and checked his other pockets finding them just as empty as the other two were. Knowing standing here would get him no where he started to walk out of the small field he was standing in. Coming to the path he noticed to his left he saw a building and a bridge leading to what the sign said was "Turtle pond." As nice as that sounded he really needed to figure out where he was and how he ended up here. _Think, think of something else, like a house or an apartment. I must have lived somewhere. But, why does that seem cloudy to me? Where am I from, who am I? I know I am Alan Humphries but who have I been up until now? _Taking the path away from the unknown building and "Turtle Pond" he followed it only about twenty feet before it forked. Which way to go? Which way would lead him to answers? Would any way lead him to something he knew? Taking a deep breath he took it to the left and hoped this was the right way. He didn't want to get lost in this place, something about this place left him with a sense that he could and could do so quite easily. Taking in all that was around him he tried to keep his senses alert to everything. All the people he watched, all the animals he questioned. How could he know what people where, what animals he saw yet know nothing else? Staying on the path he followed it using only his sense that he was going in a straight line though it seemed to curve. Coming up to a banner he stepped closer to see what it read, what clues to his missing memory it may hold.  
"Central Park?" That didn't ring any bells for him, it was nice knowing where he was yet he still had no idea as to what country he was in, or how he ended up here. It was nice though to know he was heading in the right direction to leave the park. Following the path he had been walking he continued to make his way out. Hoping answers would soon follow.

Rolling over he felt his body hit a hard surface, his eyes opened to see he had fallen out of a bed. A bed he didn't remember getting in to. Sitting up he nursed the headache he had it seemed, trying to remember things he noticed his headache only got worse. Using the bed he tried to stand and hopefully sit back on it. Trying to think back he tried to recall a memory that would explain a few things. Coming up short and making his headache worse he tried to recall easier things. _My name, my name is Eric Slingby. How old are you? In my twenties maybe? Why can't I remember my age? Are there things nearby you to help give you clues as to what you do or where you live, anything at all?_ Looking around he noticed the table next to the bed held a blank notepad. Not much use that was, it did gave a name on top "Holiday Inn Cambridge-Duxford." Opening the drawers he found it empty with nothing but a bible. Not much good that would do him at this moment. Standing he walked around the bed to see another table with another empty notepad with the same name written on top. This must be that hotel that he had awoken in, while that was good to know he still couldn't recall how he ended up in place like this. Opening the drawer he saw a wallet with a set of keys. Unable to pull up anything about the keys he stuck them in his pocket just to be safe and opened the wallet. Was that him? The id had his name written on the inside and an address, but the man on the picture, it seemed to take him off guard. Seeing the wallet held some cards with his name written on them and some money he stuck it in his back pocket and searched the hotel to see if more clues could be found. Coming across a mirror he stared at his reflection, or what he guessed was his reflection. The man looking back at him seemed to match the picture on the id he found but nothing registered inside of him. The man looking back him looked as hollow and lost as he felt. Forcing his eyes to look away he went through the rest of the room. There wasn't much else to go through, the closet held nothing but a jacket he assumed was his own but held nothing but gloves. Stepping into the bathroom he saw it held nothing but small soap bottles and some towels. A hot shower did sound quite nice though. Maybe the hot water would clear the haze in his mind and allow him to remember the things he needed to know.

Stepping out of the shower he realized the only clothes he found were the ones he had been wearing. Going back into them he combed his hair, going to twist the side into braids he stopped. Why would he do that? He noticed he had been in them when he woke up but why would he have something like that in his hair to begin with. Combing it out he tried to get something to ring a bell in his mind. Frustrated with everything, the haze in his mind, the thoughts he couldn't recall he left the bathroom. Noticing the keys he picked up earlier along with the wallet were still in his pocket, he grabbed the jacket from the closet unsure of how the weather was and left the room entirely. Making his way to the lobby of the hotel he went up to the clerk at the counter to see if they could provide any answers.  
"May I help you sir?"  
"How long am I in my room for?"  
"Of course sir, one moment please. May I have your name and room number please?"  
"Name is Eric Slingby. And I forgot to check the room number before I left."  
"Not a problem sir. Please give me one moment." He waited while the young boy pressed against the keys on his keyboard hoping to pull up the requested information. "Here we are sir, you are checked in until Thursday sir. And you are in room two-thirty-four."  
"Is there anything else you can tell me? Why I checked in, how I got here, was I alone when I arrived?"  
"Sir? I'm sorry but I do not know such things."  
"Fine. Thanks anyway kid." Hitting the counter he turned and walked towards the glass doors of the hotel.

Exciting the park Alan still had no clue as to where he was. The street sign 5th ave museum mile, only he wasn't sure where that was exactly and where it led if he took it. Following his body's impulse he stepped forward, staying straight seemed the way to go.  
Hearing car horns blare he stepped back and looked at them as they drove past him. Turning his head at the light he saw it was green for the cars, the sign across the street was telling him not to walk. How could he know what those things meant but not know anything about himself? Why did this not make any sense to him?  
"Sir, are you alright? Are you lost? Do you speak English? It's not safe to cross the street when the "Don't walk" is showing. Once the light turns green cars will take off. Sad but true, it's the way things work here in the city." Turning around he saw a man behind him in a uniform watching him. Seeing the badge he saw it read NYPD. What did that stand for?  
"What is NYPD?"  
"What? It stands for New York Police Department of course."  
"New York? As in New York City? In America?"  
"Are you alright sir? Have you been injured somehow? Perhaps we should get you seen at the hospital. Mount Sinai is right up the road here, see its right there near 103rd street."  
"I seem to not remember anything. How I got here. Who I really am, where I live if anywhere, if I have family. I don't feel hurt, though, my mind is foggy when I try to bring up certain things."  
"Perhaps you fell and hit your head? Did you come from the park? You can hurt yourself if you're not careful at certain locations. Do you have id of some sort? I can run a search in my car and see if things come up."  
"No, I awoke in the park with nothing on me, just what I am wearing."  
"Awoke in the park? May I ask where?"  
"I. I don't know really, I was near "Turtle Pond I believe." He heard the man say something into his walkie talkie before putting his attention on Alan again who was looking around where he was hoping to see something familiar to his cloudy mind. He just wanted clues to who he was at this point. Something to tell him things could be okay if he tried hard enough.  
"Sir. Can you come with me to where you woke up? Perhaps we may find evidence of something that happened, or maybe find someone that may have saw something.. Though nothing yet has been reported as foul play, it's the middle of the day and where you were is a busy spot, someone would have seen something and we can only hope report it in." Nodding he followed the officer to his car that was just a few blocks down and got in. He seemed to know where he was going allowing Alan to see the sites that they drove by. He seemed to have walked a good distance before he met the officer. Feeling the vehicle stop and turn off he saw the street sign read 5th ave and 79th street.  
"It's this way sir. Does anything seem familiar yet?"  
"No, nothing."  
Putting his hands in his pockets the one grabbed the gloves still where he left them. For some reason feeling them in his hand he felt he could hold on to something he knew. It was the only thing he felt certain of, even his name seemed strange to him. Was it even his?

"Here, I awoke in this small field here." Pointing to the grass that fell short from the giant tree's shade the officer walked ahead and said something into his walkie again while he walked around the area. Sitting in the grass he held his knees, he felt frustrated, and scared, and uncertain over what the future would hold.  
"Sir, I can find no signs that you were hurt and witnesses say they saw you here when they arrived. Please, allow me to get you checked out at the hospital. A doctor may be able to learn why you cannot remember things." Not saying a word he stood and allowed the officer to take him back to his car to take him to the hospital. Feeling his face become wet he looked into the side mirror and saw tears running down his face. Seeing something in the corner of his eye he turned and saw the officer holding a tissue out to him.  
"Thank you."  
"I wouldn't give up yet I'm sure you're memories will come back to you. And I put a call out to the station to see if a missing persons is out for you or if they can find something about you in our database. If something comes up I'll let you know."  
Again he nodded while he took the tissue and dried his eyes.

Eric walked down the main street the hotel was on uncertain as to where he was exactly. He knew Cambridge but where in it exactly was something he wanted to know as was how he ended up here. His id said he lived in London so then why did he come here? Unsure how to get around he found walking was better for him anyway. He was able to think more, see if things weren't coming back to him. The air was decent enough for a nice walk, brisk as the sun was setting but not cold to the point of not being able to stay long in it. It seemed so strange that his memory was as hazy as it was. He never remembered experiencing anything of the sort before. Though, thinking about it he couldn't remember much other than his name at the moment so maybe he had. Perhaps he had done something last night and was slipped something, a pill or something of the sort in a cocktail. That may be the case but something else jumbled his brain he was sure of it. His mind may be all but gone at the moment but his intuition wasn't. That seemed to be working fine as he stopped to view the Cam. It boggled his mind that he knew what body of water he was watching but everything else seemed so out of place. Even in standing here he felt lost. How did one recall memories when everything seemed so foreign to you? Should he dare go back to London, or stay here to see what answers he may uncover? Something told him to stay, that he came here for a reason and he needed to know what it was but something else told him to go back to London, to the place he called home and see what answers he may find. See if he really was who he claimed to be. Seeing the sun start to fade he turned to head back to his hotel. His stomach seemed to be seeking nourishment and he had passed a few places to do so on his walk. Maybe if he slept his memories would return, perhaps this haze just needed to run its course and all would be fine once it had done so. He wasn't going to panic; his body told him panicking wasn't something he did. He knew not to trust it for it may be misleading and not knowing what was true and what was not putting full faith in it seemed foolish but it was all he had to go off of right now and so he would listen. He didn't see how doing so could make matters worse.

Alan thanked the officer for helping him get signed into the hospital and sat on the bed he had been given. He knew this was an emergency room, he knew nurses were the ones that examined him but how could he know that and not know who he was? Allowing his head to rest on the pillow he stared at the ceiling, he hoped this was a dream of some sort. Some nightmare that was caused by a drug, yet, he didn't believe so. Deep down he was told that this was not caused by something like that, that he was not one to use or fall victim to drug use. But, then what else could cause this ailment for him? Why could he recall nothing prior to waking in the park? Hearing a voice say his name, or rather, what he believed was his name he sat up to see a doctor looking at him, watching him. This doctor looked different than the others he saw when he entered the hospital, he didn't wear all white, he wore a green sweater vest and held a clip board.  
"Alan Humphries. Is this correct?"  
Nodding he tried to take this man in, commit to memory what he looked liked, what the fiber of his being was. If nothing else he wanted to see if he could hold memories of any kind at the moment.  
"I was told you spoke English is this correct?"  
Nodding again he saw he was right handed and carried only black ink pens on him, as he was holding one and two more were clipped to the v-neck the sweater vest held.  
"I am going to examine you if you will allow me to. I was told you are suffering from memory problems. Memory is my specialty."  
Again not saying a word he allowed the doctor to do what he needed to. His voice felt lost, had he forgotten how to speak as well? Was language something he had made up but never really had to begin with? Seeing the doctor holding a small pen in his hands he flinched as light was shinned in his eyes. Trying to push the doctor away he closed his eyes in hopes to not lose his vision as well. He wanted to hold on to something, anything, that he could use to remind him that he wasn't fading into nothingness.  
"I am sorry Alan, are your eyes sensitive to the light? Most don't find it bothers them all that much."  
"I can still see." Hearing his voice again he wondered if it was really his, was that what he sounded like? Or perhaps, that voice belonged to someone else; someone his mind wanted to believe was himself. The voice was soft, scared, dry from air it had used. Yet, it sounded so foreign to him. Why? Why?  
"Why?"  
"Why can you still see? Because the light wasn't meant to blind you."  
"No. Why? Why does nothing seem real to me? Why can't I believe what I see or hear? Am I really who I say I am? If not then who is the real Alan Humphries and why did I take his name?" Looking over at the doctor he knew he wasn't going to find the answers he so desperately needed.  
"That is what I am to try and find out."

Making it back to the hotel with his stomach satisfied Eric crashed on the bed to stare at the ceiling. He had thought about it during his meal, if he could not remember who he was exactly he could make something new. There would be no reason to pick up where he had left off since he couldn't recall what any of those things may be. This could be a chance to make a new life for himself, perhaps once he got back to London he would see if he had money to his name and see where it could take him. Maybe he would keep whatever job he had, he assumed he had one since he money for the cards in his wallet and the trip he had taken, but maybe he would seek something else. He didn't feel to be the type of person to have a family so the thought of never returning to them didn't sound as bad as it could. Finding the TV remote he turned the nice sized screen on to see what he could find while he stripped of his clothes and made himself comfortable for the night. Hanging his jacket back up in the closet he started to unbutton his shirt, the news was just starting it sounded like. He wasn't hoping it would hold clues to what had happened to him yet, something told him not to change the channel. Plus, it was always good to know what was going on in the world. Grabbing the other hanger from beside his jacket he hung his white button up shirt as well before moving to the dresser under the TV to keep his pants neat for the night. Sitting on the bed he wondered if he was the type of person to sleep completely naked at night or keep something on. Thinking of the strange feeling he would have sleeping with nothing he kept his boxers on and watched TV from where he was.  
"Two people were killed today in a house fire. Fire marshal reports state the couple had been trapped inside when pieces of the roof collapsed blocking the exit." As the image of the house flashed across the screen from the cameraman who was with the reporter Eric felt his head start to spin. Clutching it he kept his arms on his knees hoping to make everything stop spinning. What was happening to him? Did this have something to do with that fire? No, it couldn't have, he lived in London, he had proof. There was fire though, he could see it, from below and he, he had been holding someone. Saying he wasn't worth it, but that wasn't what he saw on TV. Had it triggered this though? Feeling the room spin faster he felt his body fall to the floor as his vision went dark.

Being told he was going to be moved to a room inside the hospital Alan had some free range of motion. Not much as he didn't know where to go or if he wanted to move without being told he sat on the bed and watched people go by. A few times nurses would see him staring and come ask him if he needed something. He would say no and they would leave him be but he would continue to watch. He had hoped that maybe he would see something he knew, something he was certain of. Yet nothing of the sort had happened. He wanted clues, needed answers to help ease his mind. It seemed the haze that covered his memories whenever he tried to reach for them just made him frustrated and seemed to vanish further from his grasp. Seeing something, an emergency of some sort he craned his head just slightly to see better. He wasn't sure why he wanted to look but his eyes wouldn't seem to tear away from this person that had been wheeled in. Her face didn't give a hint that he knew her but he seemed drawn in. Perhaps it was the bruises that lined her face or the way she screamed silently as doctors tried to look at her. Stepping off the bed he moved to the small doorway that separated him from the nurses' station of the ER he tried to hear what she was saying. Why couldn't he look away from her?  
"Sir, is everything alright, can I help you somehow?"  
Hearing a nurse coming up he stopped and held on to the doorway. The doctors were yelling for nurses to bring them something.  
"She is dying isn't she?" He didn't have to look at the nurse to know she heard him.  
"Horrible car accident. Hit on the driver's side by a car that ran a red light. She was barely breathing when EMT's arrived."  
Death, his body filled with a sense of knowing what that was like. Of knowing what it felt like to have organs shut down, to watch the mind send your body signs that everything was failing. His hands shook understanding the feeling of causing death. Stepping back he saw flashes form behind his eyes, the dead piling up, the blood that stained his hands, the blood that stained someone else's hands as well. That someone was someone he knew, someone he cherished.  
The nurse saw his body start to tremble, unable to make it to him in time he collapsed to the floor as the images ended abruptly and everything went dark.

0o0o0o0o0

So what do you think? I kind of like it for a first chapter. I know I have other stories I am working on and need to finish and I am going to try my hardest to balance them all. Please review and leave thoughts. I am excited for this story it's different from what I am used to so it should be fun.  
~Femalefighter~


	2. Pieces

**Find Me**

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer-** I own nothing!

Slowly regaining consciousness Alan opened his eyes as he stretched. White walls stared at him as he noticed machines beside him, none looked in use but they were there waiting it seemed. Sitting up he took a look at himself in the hospital bed, scared, he tried to recall what happened. He was in the Emergency room waiting to be moved to a room when a girl was rushed in from a bad car accident. She had been in pain, something about death then his head started to spin and he must have collapsed. Where was he now? This looked to be a hospital room as well; he must have been moved to a new room, but where exactly? How long had he been asleep for? What new memories had he forgotten? Moving his legs over the bed he stood up hoping not to fall. His legs seemed weak, as if they hadn't moved in a while. Making his way to the hospital room door he stood in the doorway and looked to see what he could find. Nurses were gathered at most ten feet from his room going over something it seemed and another was pushing a closed cart to each room and pulling out trays. Going to step into the hallway he heard someone say something making his body stop.  
"Mr. Humphries! What are you doing out of bed? Have you been awake long? I was just in your room not all that long ago and you were still sleeping."  
_That's right, my name is Alan Humphries, or so I think any way. I lost all my memories from something that I can't remember and ended up here when an officer saw how lost I was.  
_"Come sir; let me help you back into bed. If you needed something you should have just pushed the nurses call button and I would have come to you. We don't want you hurting yourself now do we."  
"Where am I exactly? Am I still in the same hospital I arrived at? And how did I get here?"  
"This is Mount Sinai and it is the same hospital you arrived at. You were brought here by an officer who said he found you and said you couldn't remember anything that happened to you prior to awaking in Central Park."  
So that was real then, it wasn't just fragments his mind made up to help cope with losing everything else. "I collapsed in the Emergency room did I not?"  
"You did sir, I'm glad you can recall it. We aren't sure why, a nurse said you saw one of the patients being brought in and collapsed shortly after. Now come, relax, dinner is being served right now. Go ahead and eat and I'll inform the doctor that you are awake, he has wanted to speak with you for some time now." Helping him back in to bed he made sure he wasn't going to get up and walk away again before leaving him be. Looking down on himself he saw a hospital gown on him, he had no shirt on but seemed to still be wearing pants, that was a good thing. He didn't remember much of who he was but the thought of being completely naked bothered him. Curling up on top of the covers he stared at the wall furthest from the door, he felt scared and alone. He was alone in this world and he couldn't recall if he had always been like this or this was a side effect from having no memories. For some reason, he couldn't pull up this feeling of being alone, it didn't seem new to him. His body seemed to remember it; it seemed to remember this position as well and knew it brought him comfort.

Eric stretched out on the nice queen side bed the room had and didn't move for some time. He felt no real reason to, he was beyond comfortable and he had nothing better to do. Sure one would try to pull up the memories they lost but why? It was much easier to start fresh and forget about what happened before then to search for possible painful, tragic memories. There was this nagging feeling though, this horrible repeating message his mind played, it kept telling him to not be so damn lazy. He wasn't sure why though, perhaps it had something to do with an odd dream he had last night. It was hard to recall but he remembered being with someone and possibly making some sort of promise with them. But, why would he make a promise to someone, that didn't seem like something he would do at all. And who could that promise be to anyway, he didn't remember anyone. Trying to push the thought from his mind he showered and dressed with plans to get some new clothes today, wearing the same ones again was started to seem quite gross. Standing in the mirror he combed his hair and went to put the right side up in braids only to stop as he got to the first one. Why was he always trying to do that? Using his hands he messed up his hair to give him a bed head look and walked out. Somehow he still managed to look put together which was a plus since he wanted people to take him seriously though he really didn't care what they thought. At least, that's what he thought. He couldn't remember if he was like that or not but something told him he gave off a 'didn't care' attitude and that was fine with him. Grabbing his wallet and keys he left the room in search of breakfast and new clothes. Thinking about it though he wondered how much money had actually had. He couldn't remember being rich but the plastic in his back pocket seemed to make him think so. How would he find out how much he was worth though? Maybe that was why he would go back to London. For now though he would just get the things he needed and hoped the cards didn't decline. Unsure where to go, or what was around him he went wherever his feet would take him. Cambridge was beautiful and he found walking around to admire its beauty was not all that bad. There seemed to be much history in the area, history; that sounded like something he enjoyed or had a lot of. Starting to laugh he ignored the strange looks people gave him for laughing suddenly and talking to no one. History though, that was a good one. He couldn't remember anything about himself, not really anyway and he believed he had a lot of history. Maybe at one point and time but not now, now he had nothing. Seeing a little café that was serving breakfast he went inside for a bite to eat. His stomach seemed to like the smell and was hoping he would stop. Looking at the menu he saw nothing popped out to him, he didn't seem to be a big breakfast person. Seeing a smaller menu with muffin choices he ordered one and walked out with a cup of coffee. He wasn't sure how he took it normally but his taste buds seemed to like the idea of drinking it. Walking down the street he took a bite from the blueberry muffin, not too bad it didn't seem sweet which was nice. Wondering around he tried to kill time and do as little thinking as possible while searching for a clothing store. He didn't want to think about what happened last night, or who he was, or what he couldn't remember. It seemed to be a lot of work and he didn't want to do that much. Not when he didn't have to, he could just as easily move forward with his limited memories and not think twice about it. For some reason though every time he tried to a tingling feeling over came him. One that made he think he needed to do something important, that he was forgetting something major and he had to remember. He couldn't even imagine what it could be though.

Alan slowly ate the dinner brought in for him. It didn't taste all that bad and he did seem quite hungry yet he couldn't get himself to want to eat. He didn't want to do anything but try to get his memories back. Placing the other half of sandwich down unable to eat any more he pulled his knees close to rest his chin on them. What happened to him? Why could he remember nothing? Was someone missing him right now, worried over where he could be? Were they looking for him? He couldn't possibly be alone in the world could he? No, there had to be at least one person that he was friendly with, that would notice something wrong if he didn't return home. Closing his eyes he held himself tighter as he started to cry. He was tired of crying but that seemed to be all he could anymore, all he knew as fact, tears. He tried to say no one was missing him but his body started to feel strange at those thoughts. Was he not alone then? Was some one really out there looking for him? But, who and why were there no memories of this person. Still, the thought of that one person made him want to cry, he loved feeling that someone missed and wanted him back. It was probably the greatest feeling in the world.  
"Mr. Humphries? Is now a bad time?"  
Bringing his head up he looked near the door to see a doctor watching him, writing something down. Drying his eyes he had him come in, he must of looked like a mess as he was handed a tissue.  
"Do you remember who I am Alan?"  
"Yes, you're the doctor from before."  
"I am, good to hear that you remember me, that already tells me you're not suffering from short term problems most likely. Can you remember anything about yourself? Has anything come to you? It's alright if it hasn't, it can take days, to months, maybe even years for some to recover their lost memories."  
"Nothing has come to me. But I feel strange when I think if someone is looking for me."  
"Strange how, Alan? Care to explain it to me?" Taking a seat next to the bed he waited with him clip board at the ready to take any notes.  
"Well, I can't really explain it but I feel like there is someone out there looking for me, waiting for me to come back and it, well it makes me happy." Feeling his cheeks start to blush he smiled slightly.  
"Try to describe this someone for me."  
"I can't. I do not see faces, or even names, not even what color their hair or eyes are but I know someone is looking for me."  
"Can you recall why you collapsed?"  
That's right he had collapsed a few hours ago. What he saw, what he was feeling were things he didn't want to recall. Yet, this horrible nagging feeling started to pick at him; it wanted to be thought about. Could his memories be stored somewhere there? What if he was suppressing his memories? But, why would he do such a thing? What could cause him to want to do so? Maybe it wasn't a want but a need to. Again, why would he have to?  
"Death, it was knowing the feeling of death. Of feeling what it was like to bring death. I saw death everywhere, and blood, and this figure of someone I knew."

Eric decided he wasn't a fan of clothes shopping in the slightest. Finding the first shop he could find that should non-dress attire he bought the first things he liked. Going back to the hotel he changed out of his suit and into a pair of dark jeans and a tee. He liked how the tee looked on him, clinging close to his body and around the muscles he must of closely worked on. There was no reason to not want to show them off them, if you got it flaunt it. He wasn't sure where he heard that before but it sounded appropriate. Content with how he looked he went back out. He had no desire to stay in the hotel; his feet wanted to keep moving. Perhaps it was from not remembering anything. No, it was probably from what happened last night. It was vague but he knew he passed out watching the news report on the fire. The images were still on his mind. Flames, he was above flames, someone was holding on to him. Why? Why would they be clinging to him? And who was this person? Why couldn't he remember their face or their name? And why were there flames below them? He didn't remember feeling heat but he could see them there, threatening to consume them. He had told them he wasn't worth it, but who was it and what was there relationship?  
"I give up! Who was it?" Yelling he stopped as he saw a few nearby looking at him for his strange and sudden outburst. Ignoring their looks he continued to walk. This was beyond frustrating to not know who that person was and why he saw such things. Was that a memory or something his mind had made up? It didn't feel like something fake, so then it was a memory? A memory of what exactly though? A memory of whom? Maybe he should leave Cambridge and go back to London sooner than he had planned. Walking around was nice but it wasn't doing anything that was helping him and his body kept saying he was wasting time. And he really wasn't crazy about not being able to remember anything. Sitting on a park bench he took a moment to think things over. Should he go back, was anything even waiting for him then? He wouldn't know until he looked but what if there was nothing then what would he do? He would start over. It was just that simple, if he went back to London and learned nothing he would start over that was all he had left. He would take the resources he had and start a new life. He didn't feel stupid so he should be able to figure out how to survive pretty well. That was it then, he would head back to the address on his ID and see where it took him from there.

Alan was left alone after the doctor couldn't get more from him. He tried to explain what he saw and what he felt only to see the doctor form a strange look. Soon after he let him be, thinking about it what he said, it didn't sound all that normal. Fantastic, the doctor probably thought he was crazy or some psycho killer. Hugging his knees he blew at his bangs frustrated with everything. At least he was being taken care of here; he didn't have to worry about finding shelter or food. Seeing as he had no money on him or any idea where he lived he could have been in a lot of trouble. He was tired of thinking though and wished he had something to do. The TV was there but he had no desire to actually turn it on. Sure it could hold something that would help him but the chances of that were slim and something told him he had no desire to use it.  
"Excuse me, Mr. Humphries. You have a visitor outside and he wanted to make sure you were up to seeing them."  
A visitor? Who could it be? Maybe it was the one he knew was waiting for him. Nodding for them to enter he saw the officer from yesterday. It wasn't the one his heart told him he was hoping for but that didn't mean he wasn't happy to see someone. Allowing him to step closer he sat before they exchanged more than just pleasantries.  
"I am glad to hear your doing well. I was worried since I saw how confused you seemed to be when I brought you here."  
"Have you learned anything about me? I can't seem to remember anything yet and according to the doctor it could take time. Time is one thing I'm not sure I have."  
"Our records haven't pulled up anything on you and no missing persons was reported but don't lose faith I'm sure we will find something."  
"How long can I stay here before I am forced to leave? I cannot pay for all I know."  
"I…I don't know but I can find out for you if you like. And, and you're more than welcome to stay with me if you can't remember where home is for you."  
Lifting his head Alan stared at the officer, he had trouble believing what he heard. "You'll let me, someone you do not know into your home?"  
"Not all officers are jerks, contrary to what people believe, and I live alone in a two bedroom apartment. I'm an officer for the New York City Police Department I'm sure I can help you. Besides you don't have a record as far as I know of so I doubt you're some mass murder on the run. Those sorts of things go to everyone in every state."  
"I don't know about that. I told the doctor that before I collapsed I saw blood and death and bodies and had bloody hands and was with someone that was covered in blood as well."  
"Perhaps you witnessed something prior to your memory loss. That may explain why you can't remember anything. Maybe you were trying to suppress the horrible event you witnessed and in the process forgot everything as part of your way of trying to cope. Or, you've been stressed I am sure and created a horrible image."  
"Maybe, I think the doctor thinks I'm crazy though. And why would you want to help me. You don't know me do you? So why help a stranger?"  
"I became a cop to help people and I couldn't leave you on the streets. That would do nothing for you. I can help you get your life together I'm sure of it. I know it sounds strange that someone you don't know would offer such help so you don't have to agree I just thought I would offer."  
"And I appreciate it. Your help and kindness is something I have not and hope not to forget."  
"Have you done anything while you are here?"  
"They won't let me walk around. Every time I try they stop me and tell me to go back to the bed so I don't hurt myself. Am I really that confused?"  
"I don't think so; we are having a normal conversation. If you would like I could ask them to activate the TV for you."  
Shaking his head he allowed his legs to stretch out. He felt at ease talking to the officer and slowly felt his body relax. That was something he hadn't really done since he woke up in the park. It was a nice feeling; to not be so on edge all the time, probably took less energy as well.  
"No thank you. I don't think I would watch much of it anyway."  
"Then perhaps you would enjoy reading? There is a shop in the lobby I could pick you up a book or two. I'm sure thinking all the time isn't helping any. Forcing the memories to return will probably hinder any progress. For example when we lose something and we go searching for it we never find it but once we stop and forget about it we find it again. Maybe thinking like that could help you regain some of your memories."  
"Perhaps you're right. Maybe reading would be good for me, get my mind to think about something else for awhile. Though I hate to have you waste money on me."  
"I don't mind at all." He wouldn't let Alan fight him over it and they talked for a little while before he had to get going to head in to work. Before he stood to leave and get some books for him he realized he never gave him his name.  
"I am Officer Dylan Beckett by the way, you can call me Dylan. I'll try to stop by again tomorrow before I go in again. Take care until then."  
"I will do my best, take care of yourself Dylan, it's a pleasure talking to you." He wasn't lying when he spoke those words. He truly enjoyed the conversation they had shared and the friendship that seemed to be forming between them. He didn't seem as scared knowing Dylan was willing to listen and talk to him as a friend would and not a doctor that analyzed everything. He also didn't feel so alone in the world. He still felt someone was out there waiting for him, searching for him, but meeting Dylan was helping him feel better until he ran into that other person again.

Eric gathered his things and checked out of the hotel to head to the train station so he could head back to London. After asking the hotel clerk what the best way of travel was he decided to head to the station and buy a ticket. He needed the nagging to head back to stop. He wasn't sure what, if anything was awaiting him in London but his body needed to find out it seemed and wouldn't let him rest until he did so. Maybe the little of an hour trip he was facing would help him feel better; maybe even help him receive some answers. If nothing else he would have time to think and see if anything rang a bell. Perhaps some sights he would pass would send up a light bulb to something he knew. That seemed to be the most frustrating thing about remembering nothing, he remembered nothing. He knew nothing about himself and had to rediscover everything. He may not care so much if certain things he retained but no, he had to forget everything but his name. As great as that was it didn't really do much for him. Finishing up with the clerk he picked up his luggage cases that he found under the bed with nothing but suits in it, and once he packed what he had purchased earlier in the day he made his way to the station. He felt that the sooner he got to London the better. He only hoped he wouldn't see some strange vision again and collapse again. He still wasn't sure what had happened last night to cause such a reaction and that worried him. Not enough to stay locked up in a room all day but enough to try and avoid it as best he could while in public. The last thing he needed right now was to be treated as some crazy person and suck in a hospital room. Buying a ticket on the next train to London he waited for it to arrive so he could board. His body was telling him that this was the right thing to do. It almost felt like it was telling him that if he stayed in Cambridge any longer he was just wasting time and wasting time was something he couldn't do. Not really anyway, not the way he was able to, or used to do before. He had no idea what that meant or why he had such thoughts but he wasn't going to try to ignore them anymore. Clearly it was trying to tell him something and he needed to listen. Boarding the train he found an empty, threw his back in the overhead rack and got comfortable. Watching as the train slowly began to leave the station he stared out the window and felt his body relaxing from this decision. The only thing he wondered now was what waiting for him in London. Was it something he was happy to go back to or was this going to be a huge mistake?

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Sorry chapter 2 took so long to get up. This story is a completely different style for me and I have to be in the right mood to sit and work on it so I don't fall into old habits. I hope everyone continues to enjoy it. Please review and leave thoughts.  
~Femalefighter~he


	3. Dreams

**Find Me**

Chapter 3

**Disclaimer-** I own nothing!

Eric stepped off the train in London and took a moment to see if anything rang a bell to him. According to his driver's license he lived here. Slowly making his way to his house he tried to figure out something that was familiar to him, something that told him he made the right choice by coming back here. Apparently he remembered the way to his house though since that didn't take him all that long and he didn't get lost. How did this memory loss work exactly? Why could he remember certain things but everything revolving him and people he knew he came out blank? Finding the right key for his house he stood in the doorway in shock over the size of his house. This was bigger than he was expecting. Three stories, all nice sized rooms, well furnished and decorated. He _was _loaded and not afraid to show it, everything he owned was pricey. Walking the house he saw every room in full detail, looking for something that told him more about himself. Like what he did for a living, or what he used to do at least. Opening a filing cabinet he saw a folder of statements and dropped his jaw at how much he had put away. Pictures lay scattered across the walls and mantle in his living room, all of people he didn't remember, one he had an arm around that must mean he was close to them. Changing clothes and taking a nice shower he headed out to explore London. He found his home and nothing new was really learned but that didn't mean this city wouldn't help him somehow.

Alan wanted out of this hospital in the worst way. He was done dealing with doctors and being told they had no idea why he had no memories of what happened before the park. At least his police officer friend, Officer Beckett visited every night after his shift and they would talk until visiting hours ended. He still wanted him to stay with him until something else could be found or figured out so if he ever got the okay to leave he would do that. He was still a little hesitate but he had no other options but the street and maybe Dylan was right, maybe together they could find something, he was an officer after all and had access to things he didn't have.  
"Hello Alan. I have good news for you."  
Seeing Dylan walk in he closed the book he was reading and put it aside.  
"Have you found anything out about me?"  
"Well no, our records still hold nothing. But, I was told you can leave tomorrow which is great because tomorrow is my day off so I can help you get settled and show you around the city."  
"I actually get to leave? That is great news. I feel foolish staying here since there is nothing physically wrong with me." Good, if he got to leave than he could maybe learn more about himself, his memories probably wouldn't come back from sitting here all day that he was certain about.  
"I was wondering something; could I not be from around here? Could that be why I don't pop up in your systems?"  
"I've thought about it, but if you were a citizen of the states you would come up. Do you think you're from overseas?"  
"I have no idea, other than my name I can't think of anything involving myself. I may not even be who I say I am. Maybe Alan Humphries doesn't exist and that's why he can't be found."  
"I'm sure that is your name. Don't go doubting things that you feel are certain, that won't help you with things." Perhaps Dylan was right, maybe if he believed in the knowledge he had when he woke up in the park things would be easier. Though, he didn't remember much when he woke up, just his name, no age, no nothing.

Eric walked the streets for what felt like hours with nothing so far. Not even a hint that this was familiar.  
"Eric? Is that really you? What are you doing here?"  
Hearing his name he looked around to see someone running up to him. How did he know this person?  
"Eric, it's really you, but how, I was told, I saw you, you were dead."  
"Excuse me?"  
"Eric?"  
"Who the hell are you and what are you talking about?"  
"Eric, it's me. Ronald, Ronald Knox, we worked together, we hung out all the time, you, me, and Alan. Where is Alan? He was with you. I was told you killed him."  
"I think you need to get your head checked out. Excuse me." Moving past this strange person he heard them run up to him again and stop him.  
"Eric. Wait, please let me help you somehow. If the society catches wind that you're alive they will come after you."  
"What society? Look I don't know who you are or what you are talking about. Now leave me alone."  
"What has gotten into you? How could you not know anything about this?"  
"How the hell should I know? All I know is that I don't have any memories of you or this Alan person you speak of. I also know that I have no idea what the society is. Now go back to whatever world your from and leave me be."  
"Eric!"  
He heard this person yell after him as he walked off. Well he learned that London held crazy people. Maybe that's why he lived here, maybe he fit right in.

Alan stepped into Dylan's apartment and took it in. It was small but gave off a cozy feeling.  
"I know it's not much but its home and please make yourself comfortable."  
"No I like it. And thank you."  
"You can use the second bedroom, there isn't much in there but the bed is brand new it just came in yesterday. Bedroom is second door to your left."  
Taking his time to the bedroom he looked out the window in the living room to see a street view of the city from here. Couldn't see anything else but buildings but at least it was better than the hospital view which was nothing. Going into the bedroom he noticed the walls where white and bare and the bed was big enough for one person, like the hospitals but the sheets were red as were the comforter. They seemed out of place in the room but yet they still seemed to draw him in.  
"Do you like it? I figured red was better than white and the rest were light colors and I thought they were too feminine."  
"The red is fine. Thank you so much for doing this for me. I really appreciate it."  
"No problem. I'm glad I finally get to use the room. I had a roommate but he moved out as soon as he moved in. If you're up to it I was thinking of showing you the city, maybe getting you some new clothes. I figure you don't want to stay in that suit forever."  
"I hate having you spend more money on me, but a tour does sound nice."

That weirdo really pissed him off, coming up to him, saying things that made no sense. He was alive and well so where did he get off saying he saw him dead. And then saying the society could come after him. He probably had the wrong guy but still his words messed with him. Grabbing a coffee he sat and saw the people walk by. He should probably call it a day, no point in staying here all night. He still wasn't sure he wanted to remember things, if he didn't want just start fresh. Maybe he would have to move then, if people knew him here than they could hound him to pick up where he left off. At least he didn't have a family here that was good. That meant he had less to deal with if he moved, he had less to figure out.

Alan walked around with Dylan looking at sites and what was around the apartment so he could go out on his own if he wanted. Stopping at store they picked him out a few days worth of clothes for him and some dinner before heading back for the night. Something still felt like it was missing, like someone was still looking for him. As much as he enjoyed having a place he knew he couldn't stay here forever. He had to keep searching for himself; he had to help the person looking for him by looking for them as well. After dinner he changed into his sleep pants and curled under the covers for the night. He had such a headache all of a sudden. A goodnights sleep was just what he needed.

Exhausted Eric collapsed on top of his covers in bed. Kicking off his shoes he took his shirt off and laid there. He wasn't sure why but he was so tired all of a sudden. It probably didn't help that he had a massive headache. He was fine and then while coming home from the coffee shop it hit him to the point he could barely think or see straight. Closing his eyes he let sleep come over him hoping the headache would be gone by morning.

_Fire shot up under them, waiting to swallow them both. Holding on to the other they tried to let him go. They both didn't deserve this fate. Looking into the smaller ones eyes he saw blood covered his face, it dripped off him. _

Alan woke up covered in sweat, seeing the red covering him he jumped out of bed and tried to get it off him. Calming down he saw it was just the sheets. What was happening to him? What was that? Leaving the bedroom he went into the bathroom to wash his face. He was covered in sweat; he couldn't stop shaking or get the pictures out of his mind. Slowly making his way back to the room he stripped the sheets off and flipped the covers before trying to close his eyes again. He was scared to fall asleep again, scared of the images that would come to mind, scared of the fire and the blood. The only peace he could find was of the one he was holding, they seemed to offer comfort to his mind and body even with so much darkness around him

Eric snapped awake by the scene in his mind, not again. What was happening to him, what was he seeing? Looking out the window he saw the sun was shining. Getting of be bed he headed to the shower only to hear to doorbell. Who the hell could that be? Taking his time to the door he hoped by the time he got there they would be gone. He wasn't really up to dealing with people right now, not after the dream he had. Opening the door he saw the one he met yesterday.  
"How do you know where I live?"  
"I told you I know you. I knew you at least. I used to come here all the time. Please, talk to me. We were friends; I want to know what happened to you. I want to know if I can help somehow."  
"Alright. Come in. But I swear if you're lying I will not hesitate to kick you out."  
Letting Ronald in he brought him to the living room.

0o0o0o0o0o

Sorry for the long delay in chapters. Since I still don't have internet and probably won't until next week this story should update faster and with my other ones. Please review I hope you like this chapter.  
~Femalefighter~


	4. Who am I?

Chapter 4

**Disclaimer-** I own nothing!

Eric walked back downstairs from a shower and getting dressed to see Ronald was still here. He was still sitting where he left him, guess he wasn't a thief.  
"So, you know me."  
"I did, yea. You really don't remember me do you?"  
"Not at all. Your face doesn't ring a bell or anything."  
"What happened to you?"  
"How the hell should I know? I woke up in Cambridge with nothing but the clothes I was wearing and my wallet. I don't remember anything before that." Watching Ronald get up he saw him take a photo off the mantle and move towards him.  
"Do you remember him?"  
"Who?"  
"This one here." He pointed to the man next to him in the picture, the one he had his arm around.  
"No clue. I figure we were close though."  
"You could say that." Sitting next to him he stared at the photo. "You were his mentor, and his best friend at the very least. He meant everything to you."  
"Where he is now?"  
"Who knows. Last I heard you killed him. I had heard you were dead too though so now I have no idea as to where he is, if he is really dead."  
"Why would I kill him if we were close?"  
"That's what I would like to know. We had gone after you but when we found you, you both were dead."

Alan woke up feeling exhausted. That dream had haunted him all night. Why did it keep coming back, what did it mean? Who was the one he was with? Why were they just above flames that were ready to consume them? Why were they covered in blood? Needing fresh air he left the bedroom to shower and then went out for a walk. He needed to move, to get away from that horrible nightmare. The city wasn't that bad, it was huge and he was scared to get lost but it wasn't bad. Seeing the sky getting dark from looking ready to rain he headed back to the apartment. Just getting in the door he heard the phone ringing. Checking the caller id he saw it was the number Dylan had written down for him so he would know when he was calling.  
"Hello?"  
"Alan? Hey, listen I got access to search deeper for your information. Can you come to the precinct?"  
Writing down the address and how to get there he grabbed a jacket with a hood and headed back out. He hoped something would be found out, if nothing else he just wanted to know where he was from. Arriving at the address he walked in and with the help of an employee he was lead in the back.  
"Alan! Hey you made it! Did you have any trouble?"  
"No it was fine."  
"Great! Follow me. Let's do this."

Eric walked London with Ronald next to him. So far he learned all about the society and how he used to work for them and what he had done to make them go after him. Nothing was ringing any bells; actually his mind was only becoming cloudier. He could feel a headache coming on, this couldn't be good. So far the two times he had a headache it led to that horrible dream. Both stopped at the corner as ambulances sped by. As they drove by Eric stumbled back, his head was pounding, not now, not here. Falling to his knees he could barely hear Ronald next to him asking what was wrong. _Fire was everywhere, hell, that was hell under them. Someone was above them threatening to send them both if the smaller one he was with didn't let him go.  
"I'm not worth going to hell for. You deserve peace, you deserve heaven."  
"No! I'm not going without you! I don't care if I go to hell so long as we are together."  
_"Damn it Alan!" Eric sprang up in bed, covered in sweat and trying to catch his breath. Looking around he saw he wasn't on the street anymore. How did he get here? And where was here, this was not his bedroom.  
"Eric? What the hell happened to you, are you alright?"  
Seeing Ronald next to him he tried to get his body to calm down. What was with those dreams?  
"Where am I?"  
"My place, well my house in London anyway. I wouldn't risk taking to my actual house."  
"Are we all loaded enough to own two houses?"  
"Two houses is standard, for when we have to keep our eyes on someone. You really remember nothing do you?"  
"No, I don't. And every time I try to seek out what I lost I have this strange vision where I am holding someone, Alan, I am holding Alan, and we are standing over hell." Wiping his forehead he tried to get some of the sweat off him. Still covered in sweat he took his shirt off only to feel a cold chill.  
"You were with Alan? Are you sure?"  
"Yea. I have been having the same vision, I am with someone and we are over fire. Sometimes I see a little more but it's basically the same thing." Ronald stood up and went into his closet to pull out a shirt and give it to Eric. "I wonder, they say that when we die we are seen by a judge, if you will, our records are played for him."

Alan stood behind Dylan as he typed in his name.  
"Woah, they are more names in here than I thought."  
"Is that bad? I know nothing more about myself to tell you."  
"Everyone in this data base has a pictured attached, so I'll just scroll down until I find yours."  
"Oh, okay." He waited patiently as Dylan slowly went down the list on the screen. So far none of these people looked like him. What if he was right, what if his name really wasn't Alan? Than they would never be able to locate his past.  
"Found you!"  
"Really?!" Leaning over closer he noticed that face on the picture did look like him.  
"Let me pull up the file." Both waited as the information loaded the page. Once it did Alan looked it over, he couldn't wait to figure out who he was, where he was from.  
"Hold on, something isn't right here." Hearing Dylan, Alan moved his head back to see him better. What was he talking about?  
"According to this you live in London, but your birthday is listed as March fourteenth eighteen-sixty-two. That would make you one-hundred and fifty years old."  
"What?"  
"Maybe we pulled up a file on your great-grandfather. This system doesn't' get cleaned up all that often. And while computers weren't around back then when we got this it is possible we stuck everyone's file in here." Going back they went back to scrolling the page of names.

Alan, that was who he was with, and they were over the fires of hell. But why? What had he done? And was Ronald telling the truth, had he killed him? And where was Alan now? No one had seen him since they found him dead. Ronald said he would look into it but deep down he knew he had to find him and find him soon. That was what his heart was telling him, he had to find Alan and soon. He could be anywhere though, he may not even be in England.  
"Think me think; I have to have known of a place he could go to."  
Walking around Ronald's house he tried to think, tried to find something he could use to help his search. If they had been so close then how come he couldn't even think of his favorite places or how much he meant to him? What if Alan was suffering somewhere? Hurt, lost, he needed to find him. _*Alan, where are you? Are you even here?*_

_0o0o0o0o_

Sorry for the long delay. I hope to start the next chapter soon and make it longer than this so it's worth the update. I figure the next chapter or two will be the last ones. Hope you continue to enjoy this story.  
~Femalefighter~


	5. Searching

Chapter 5

**Disclaimer- **I own nothing!

Alan knew he had to get to London. Deep down he knew the answers he searched for were there, his family was there. He had no idea how he came to America, or why, or when, that must be a sign that he had to go back. He had no money though so he couldn't just hop on the first flight to London and he wasn't asking Dylan for the money he had already done enough for him. There had to be another way he could get out there. Sitting up in bed he looked over the file Dylan had printed at his request to go over the information on more time. There had to be some clue as to who he was in this folder, some detail they had overlooked. The attached photo looked just like him, there had to be some connection. The names even matched so he must be a grand or great grandchild of this man. _*London, I have to get to London. No matter what.*_

Eric sat in Ronald's house waiting for him to get back. He kept saying it wasn't safe to roam the streets, especially at night when the reapers were most active. If someone spotted him they were go after him. He was a killer after all, the killer of hundreds, including Alan. He couldn't just sit around though, he needed to go out, he needed to find him. He felt this pulling in his chest whenever he thought of him. Something was telling him to find him and to find him as quickly as possible. Why did he feel like time was running out though? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense anymore. Getting off the couch he went to the coat closet and found a jacket of Ronald's with a hood. Throwing it over his head, making sure it hid his face as best as it could he headed out the street. He couldn't sit around anymore. He wasn't waiting any longer. He was tired of remembering nothing and it was time he started fighting back for him memories.

It took awhile but Alan figured out how to use Dylan's computer and search for ways out of the city. There was a dock at the southern tip of the city, it was a supplies ship but if he was careful he could sneak on board. He would need to bring essentials though. If he was sneaking he couldn't eat with the crew which meant he would starve otherwise. The ship had docked last night, meaning it wouldn't be here much longer. If he was correct most ships stayed just long enough to restock their own supplies and then headed back out. If he was smart he would leave soon before it took off. This could be his only shot out of the city. Jumping out of his chair he wrote a quick note to Dylan and left it on the counter telling him thank you and that he was leaving. He also wanted to promise him that he would repay him as soon as he could for what he was about to take. Finding a back pack with two large compartments he shoved some non-perishable food in one and clothes in the other. For some reason he wanted to make sure he had the outfit he woke up in with him when he got to London. He wasn't sure why but something told him to carry it with him. Throwing it on his back and saying good-bye to this place that helped him so much he walked out and headed for the docks.

Eric searched one part of the city before heading back to Ronald's. He had found nothing that looked familiar or anyone. But, London was a big city so he wasn't giving up. Tomorrow he would go back and search another part. He was determined to find some clues as to what happened and he wasn't moving on with his life until he found them. Opening the door he saw Ronald jump up from his spot on the couch seeing him enter the house.  
"Eric! What happened? Why did you leave? I told you it's not safe. People are going to look for you once they realize you're alive."  
"I went looking for clues. Look Ron, it's nothing personal but I have to do this. I have to find Alan." Both stopped as Ronald's shoulders went ridge.  
"What did you call me?"  
"What?" Eric hung up his coat and looked at Ronald confused by what was going on. Didn't he call him by his name?  
"You called me Ron, maybe you're not as lost as you think. No one but you called me that, not even Alan."  
"Oh. Well, I guess not then." Smiling at each other Eric froze as Ronald's face contoured before he fell to the ground.  
"Ronald!" Running over to him he picked his head up to have him sitting up on his lap.  
"Ron, Ronald wake up! Come on now!" Seeing his eyes not budging he shifted to lift him up and bring him to bed. Hitting the stairs he felt his head start to become fuzzy, not this, not now. Trying to keep his grip on Ronald he fought against the haze clouding over his mind, over the fires of hell showing on his eyes.

Making it to the docks Alan searched for the boat he was looking for. He wrote down the name of the boat when he wrote down the directions on how to get here so he wouldn't waste any time and he couldn't afford to guess. Finding the boat still sitting on port number 3 he ran in the shadows searching for the way on. It would be tricky but he would have to enter the boat through the metal bridge the connected the dock and the boat. Checking the area on all sides he took a breath and ran for it. Just before the bridge he stopped and checked the area again. Running would give him away he could tell that from here. The dock was pretty much clear right now but there was no way the boat was deserted meaning he would have to be careful. Taking off his shoes he held him in his one hand as he dropped lower to the ground and started to walk up the bridge. Careful of each step he did his best to make sure he wasn't heard. Making it to the top he quickly found a place to hide to slip his shoes back on before trying to make his way below deck. He didn't know how long until they left or how long it would take to reach the British shore but he would have to stay on his guard the entire time and find a place to rest. There was no way it would take less than a day to get there meaning he would have to get even a few hours of sleep. Finding the ladder to go into the ship he made his way to it before climbing down. Keeping in mind what he was looking for as a hiding place he headed towards the cargo hold. It made have the most amounts of people but once they were in motion it would probably be the safest. Unless it was livestock most wouldn't stay and keep an eye on it for the duration of the trip.

Eric woke up on the floor at the bottom of the stairs with a massive headache. Sitting up to his body's dismay he saw Ronald beside him still unconscious. What the hell happened to him? And why did he have to black out just then? These visions seemed to be coming more frequently, what did that mean? Making it to his feet he grabbed Ronald again and attempted to go back up the stairs. His head was pounding but he had to make sure Ronald was okay. After all he had done to help this was the least he could do for him. Getting him in bed he checked him over to make sure he wasn't bleeding anywhere before he curled up on the floor. As long as Ronald was resting and okay he could rest and try to make this headache go away.

Alan sat with his legs bunched up between two shipping boxes. He knew they had taken off a few hours after he boarded which was a wonderful feeling. Now he just had to wait until they made it across the ocean. Hopefully that was the only stop they were making. Digging through his backpack he pulled out a can of soup and using a church key he started drinking from the can. It wasn't the greatest thing in the world but it would work for now. Finishing up he put it aside and tried to get some shut eye. It was a long trip ahead of him and sleep would help speed the journey along.

Eric woke up to see Ronald still lying in bed. It looked like he had never even woke up since he brought him to bed. This wasn't a good thing. What the hell happened to him? He couldn't lose him too. Standing, he at least made sure he was breathing properly. Thankfully he was but he needed help. Moving from the bed he searched the room for a hint of something that would help. Opening a second closet he saw weapons inside, a thick blade looking weapon, and a saw. Grabbing the saw he went downstairs to grab the coat and head out. He had to find someone to help Ronald and if the streets were as dangerous as he said the weapon would help. Though as he gripped the handle of the saw it felt like a piece of him was back, holding it felt natural to him.

0o0o0o0o0

Sorry for the delay I am working on six now, hope to get it up ASAP. Hope you enjoy this chapter and the next.  
~Femalefighter~


	6. Answers for Everyone

Chapter 6

**Disclaimer-**I own nothing!

Alan stepped off the boat to move behind some crates and properly stretch. They had been on the water for at least two days for as long as he knew. It may have been longer since he never saw the sun set or rise but he felt like he was only on the boat for a couple of days. Right now all he wanted to do was shower and eat proper food since the canned goods he ate had never really filled him. First he had to find the address on this file, he had no money so he couldn't get a place to stay or even wash up in. Pulling the file from his backpack he tried to find someone to put him in the right direction. He couldn't remember how to get there, or if he was even close. A crew member from the boat he had just gotten off of was willing to help, telling him it was a walk but it was east of here, just in from the water. Thanking him he took off hoping to get here as soon as possible. He had no idea what was wait for him at the address but answers were finally coming into his reach.

Eric headed back to Ronald's place feeling bad that he hadn't found anyone to help him. He hoped he would be okay; this was the third day he had looked for help, and that Ronald hadn't woken up. Why did he feel like this had something to do with him? That Ronald was being punished for offering to help him search for Alan? Reaching the house he saw two figures walk in the front door. That was strange, had Ronald finally woken up and let them in? Staying on his guard he went around the house to push open a window and sneak in. Gently landing inside he noticed the downstairs was all quiet, that must mean they were upstairs. Ronald was in danger! Getting a better grip on the handle of his blade he ran for the stairs to get to him before the intruders did anything to hurt him. Bursting into the bedroom he saw a man in red standing over him. He looked strange, long red hair, heel boots, and he was holding a chainsaw. Where was the other guy? Pulling focus from the strange man he looked for another one, he could have sworn he saw two enter the house.  
"Relax Slingby, I won't go after you, yet. I came for Knox. He hasn't reported in for days. We got rumors that you were alive. Figured you would be with Knox though considering you two had been friends."  
"Who are you, and how do you know my name?" Keeping the blade in the ready position he watched the man in red for any sudden movements. The man in red stood up from looking over at Ronald to turn and face him.  
"What are you babbling about? How could you forget me? The most beautiful reaper, men fall for my looks though they know a woman shall never choose them."  
What the hell was this? Who was this guy? He was odd but he didn't look like any woman.  
"You don't remember me do you? Well that's a loss for you."  
"Explain yourself. Now!"  
"What's to explain? I came here for Knox. I was told you were dead from a demons hand, though we were going to kill you if he didn't. Though I guess since you're alive the kill order is back in effect. Oh well, I can get Knox later."  
Eric just barely had time to block as the man in red came after him. His body took control as his training on fighting came over him.  
"The name is Grell, Eric, remember that. I'm the one that shall kill you, again."

Alan stopped in front of the address he was given. It had taken him longer than he had hoped but he had only gotten lost once which wasn't terrible. Taking a breath he went up the front walk to the door and knocked twice. Hearing no movement from inside he knocked again before touching the door handle. He had family that lived here right, so it wouldn't be strange to just walk in if the door was open, correct? Turning the handle he was surprised to feel it turn and open. Stepping inside the house he noticed how dark it was. He had this feeling no one had been inside for days.  
"Hello? Is anyone here? My name is Alan, I believe I live here. Hello?" Hearing nothing he took another step inside and another until he reached for the living area. The house gave off this vibe that sent chills through him, no one had been here for awhile, that was what he was feeling. Seeing pictures on the mantle over the fireplace he stepped closer to get a better look. Taking one in his hand he felt his hands start to shake. That was him. But who was he with? Who was this guy in the picture? Feeling his body go stiff his eyes started to see flames, not again. Dropping the picture he grabbed his head trying to stay awake. He didn't want to see this again.

Eric was shoved into the wall breaking the closet door with his back. He would owe Ronald big time for this when everything was over.  
"Alright Grell, I think you've had enough fun for now." Hearing a voice come up behind Grell Eric felt him let up. This guy was just as strange as Grell was, all in black, long silver hair, keeping his face covered. What was with these guys?  
"Always ruining my fun old man. We both know he has to die anyway so why stop me?" Ignoring Eric they turned back to Ronald who was still unconscious in bed.  
"If you looked you would see he already is dead. He is listed nowhere for soul collected."  
"What do you mean, already dead? I'm right here am I not?" Pushing away from the wall he moved to the man in black grabbing his shoulder and having him look at him.  
"Killing you would be pointless, that is what I am saying, Eric Slingby. As funny as it may be to see what happens you're purpose here isn't to die by our hands."  
"What the hell are you talking about? What purpose? What is going on? Who the hell am I? And what is wrong with Ronald?" Frustrated now he had them both looking at him, nothing was happening next until he received some answers.  
"You have seen judgment. What that entails I do not know. No one knows until it happens which as reapers is rare. Ronald has been stopped from helping you. That much is obvious by the state of suspension he is in. Unable to wake until your trial is over."  
"Trial, but, why do I remember none of this? And Alan? What of Alan? Is he facing this trial as well?"  
"Alan? I do not know, I knew nothing of this trial for you so I do not know if he would be facing the same trial as well. Though I don't see why he would, he did not have the crimes on his soul the way you did."  
"Well can you find out? I need to find him. Something is telling me to find him, and find him quickly."  
"No one can find him but you. If you are being tested than no one is allowed to interfere as you see with Ronald."  
"Fine. Then I'll find him alone. Once I'm sure he is safe you can do what you wish with me." Blade in hand he ran from the door. He had gotten the answers he seeked, their help was no longer needed.

_ "Damn it Alan, let me go!"  
"No! You don't deserve hell! You only did this to save me! That doesn't make you a bad person, that makes you a person in love! I love you Eric! I won't give up on you! Wherever you go I go, we are partners. Forever!"_  
Gasping Alan sat up on the floor trying to breath. He could feel sweat pouring from him as he did when those visions appeared. Trying to gather himself he thought of the men he was with, Eric. Who was he? He said he loved him? Grabbing his backpack he tried to make it to his feet and slowly make it out of the room looking for a shower. He needed hot water to help clear his mind, clear the fog. He may have said a name but he couldn't see a face. What was this Eric like, what did he look like? Coming to the bathroom he stripped down to nothing and stepped into the shower happy to feel the hot water hitting his skin. Good to know things in the house still worked. Taking his time to work the shampoo in his hair he let the water engulf his body, have it help clear his mind. Once it was washed out of hair and his body was soaped and cleaned he grabbed a towel and stepped out of the shower. He felt ten times better than he had in while, even while he stayed with Dylan. Something about being here felt right, he felt at peace. Even if he never remembered who he was he could start over so long as he had this place. Digging through the backpack he pulled out the suit he had, the one he had originally woken up from. Putting it back on he felt even more grounded as he looked at himself in the mirror he felt confident to call himself Alan Humphries. Hearing something creaking outside the bathroom door he gathered up his things and carefully opened the door. Did someone else live here? Was he trespassing? Sneaking his head out of the door he saw a shadow of a person looking at something. He got the feeling they didn't live here. Making his way of the room he headed towards the back of the house, away from the shadow. Hoping for a way out he saw a slider door to the backyard. Opening it he made it carefully down the stairs before running as fast as he could around the house to the street. Without looking back he could hear people following him. Who were they and what did they want with them?

Coming up to the house he had on his license Eric slowed up to head inside. As he was running to the house he saw three people running down the street, something about how two of them ran seemed strange but he couldn't worry about that now. He had to find Alan. At the front door he saw it wasn't closed all the way, that seemed strange. He didn't remember keeping it open when he left. He may have kept in unlocked by not remembering to lock it but he wouldn't leave it open. Carefully stepping inside he didn't see any real trace of someone being here. Closing the front door he stepped further inside, taking his time he made it to the living room and saw a picture on the floor. The rug under the coffee table was folded up in the corner as well. Picking the frame up he saw it was Alan and himself, side by side with wide smiles on their face, there was even a hint of a blush on Alan's cheeks. Putting the frame back he left the room and went down the hall to check out the rest of the house. Someone might still be here since he now had a good hunch someone was here while he was out. Seeing a mirror in the hallway foggy he kept his back to the wall as he walked into to the bathroom. Someone was definitely here, towels were on the floor and the mirror was foggy and things looked wet still. Whoever used the shower had just left. The people running, they were chasing someone! Reapers, they had to be reapers, and they were chasing Alan! He just knew that was it. Running back down the hall he threw the front door open and ran after them. He had to get to Alan before the others did.

0o0o0o0

Chapter 7 will be the last chapter. 6 was going to be but I didn't want to make it 4,000 words because I get lazy when I have to proofread lot of text on a monitor. Hope you enjoy, 7 should be up soon.  
~Femalefighter~


	7. Together Again

Chapter 7

**Disclaimer-** I own nothing!

Alan didn't look back and he didn't stop running, even as the footsteps seemed to lighten up behind him. He had no idea why he was being chased and he didn't want to know why. Coming up to a gap between buildings he turned and hid behind a large garbage can hoping to stay out of sight. Not hearing footsteps he stuck his head around the dumpster to see if the coast was clear. He didn't see anyone coming; good he finally shook them off. Taking a step away he saw a man drop down from the roof above. He was tall, slicked back hair, and in a suit that looked just like the one he was wearing only he was in a plain tie instead of a bolo one. Turning he tried to go the other way only to see it was a dead end. Facing the man he stepped back until his back was up against the wall.  
"Who are you? What do you want with me?"  
Seeing the man stumble he watched him fall to the ground.  
"Alan! This way!"  
Another man, this one in plain clothes stood behind the one that had been chasing him reaching out for his hand. He didn't know this guy either, and he had a bad feeling about him. Who carried a giant saw with them?  
"How do you know my name?"

Eric stood there slightly stunned by hearing Alan ask him how he knew his name. He must not remember anything as well. Did he get any of memories back though?  
"Please, Alan, just trust me. We have to get out of here. People are going after us. Once we are safe we can talk." He could tell Alan was hesitating but he took his outreached hand and ran for it. Saying nothing they ran hand in hand making sure no one else was following them. This was insane, why were they going after Alan? The one in black back at Ron's said Alan had done nothing, he was the sole murderer so then why had Alan been running from someone? Had they thought it was him instead?

"Pl….please, we have to stop." Alan was having trouble breathing feeling his chest constricting his lungs. Feeling the man he was with slowing down they went inside a café and sat in the back away from the windows.  
"Alan, are you alright. Here have some water." Alan saw the man push a glass of water closer to him while he tried to catch his breath. Drinking half he put it back down and took a deep breath.  
"I am alright. Sorry. I don't know why but my chest hurts."  
"It's fine, so long as you're alright." A waitress showed up seeing if they needed anything only to be sent off but the other man.  
"So. Who are you? How do you know my name?"  
"Alan. So you lost your memories too then?"  
"What? But how did you know about that?"  
"Look, Alan, I don't know too much more but I do know that something happened to us that caused us to forget everything prior to a certain point. But I know I had to find you, something told me that you were out there and that we had to get together again."  
"Who are you? And why should I trust any of this?"  
"Alan, I'm E," Both jumped from their seats as a long pole came between them. Meeting Eric's gaze they both ran for it. Separating they ran in opposite directions hoping to lose the man that was after them. How did he find them so quickly? He was out cold once he was hit.

Eric lost sight of Alan as he took a back exit out of the building. Knowing Alan took the back exit he took the front and ran down the street. He had to get this guy off Alan; he wasn't the target he could tell that. Losing sight of him he looked as a shadow came over head before he saw two more. Seeing the three shadows vanish, he saw the three of them drop in front of him. Barely able to stop he just missed Grell's chainsaw come at him.  
"Will my darling, it's just like the old times isn't it."  
"Please shut up."  
So that was the new guys name, Will, he was the one chasing Alan earlier.  
"What do you want with us?"  
"Eric Slingby, you are charged with the murderer of nine hundred ninety-nine souls and one reaper."  
"Fine. But why bring Alan down with me?"  
"Alan Humphries is dead to the Dispatch, whatever force brought him back, he is their responsibility now."  
Dodging Will's blade Eric went after the man in black trying to get him off his back while avoiding Grell's chainsaw. He was outmatched and outnumbered; there was no way he could win here. He couldn't leave Alan alone though, not when he still knew nothing. He may not either, his past may still be a fog but he couldn't leave Alan alone in this world, he didn't deserve it. That is something he knew as fact.  
"Duck now!" Doing as he was told he saw the second blade he had found in Ronald's closet swing over his head hitting Grell in his shoulder. Turning behind him he saw Alan behind him bringing his weapon back to a standard ready position. He seemed confused by how the weapon arrived in his hands but looked grateful he got it when it did.

Together they went after the three that were after Eric. Alan refused to let them have him. The man he had just met he felt some sort of connection to, he had known him in his past at one point and he wasn't ready to let him go. Back to back both tried to catch their breath, neither could keep this up much longer.  
"Alan, you need to get out of here."  
"No, not without you. You still owe me answers, remember."  
Eric could hear the smile on Alan's face.  
"That's right, sorry, I had forgotten."  
"You do have memories problems don't you?" Dodging the attacks Alan rolled to the side allowing his blade to come up and lock with his opponent's blade. Eric went after Will having a feeling that taking him down would end up saving them both a lot of trouble later. He seemed to be the one barking orders at Grell all the time as it was. That's when he realized something, they were only fighting two people. Where was the third? Turning towards Alan that was when he saw it, a long sickle coming at Alan from the roof of the building next to him.  
"Alan!" Pushing off he got between him and the blade as he felt it pierce his back and go through him.  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Alan screamed as he saw a long sickle pierce Eric, who was now bleeding over him.  
"A, Alan, are you alright?"  
"You idiot! Why would you do that?! I'm not worth any of this, there is no way."  
Feeling the sickle come out of his body as the Undertaker dropped down beside Will, Eric reached for Alan's cheek as he tried to stay at least on all fours. His vision was already getting blurry. It wouldn't be long before death took him. The conversation at Ron's must have been a lie, he was meant to die after all. Alan ripped his jacket off him to wrap it around Eric hoping to slow some of the bleeding.  
"Al, Alan, you're wrong. See, I, I remember you, Alan. And this is what I always wanted for you. I wanted you to live. Remember Alan, please. Try and remember, look past the fog." Coughing up blood he could feel his life slipping.  
"Eric. Oh God, Eric!" This was Eric, the one from the visions he could see him clearly now. He was the one he with over the flames, he was the one he saw inside the house in the picture frame. And it was he who was dying in front of him, the one that took a death blow for him.  
"Oh Eric, you're such an idiot." Feeling tears start to fall from his eyes he held him on his lap and brought their lips together. Alan pulled away only when he felt Eric's lifeless body fall deeper into him.  
"ERIIIICCCC!" Shouting his name he felt hot tears fall down his face. He shouldn't have died for him; things shouldn't have happened like this, answers weren't worth this.

Light blinded his eyes and as his sight regained focus Alan found himself standing in a large room in front of the judge of worlds. Looking beside him he saw Eric there, he was alive and in one piece, not a scratch on him.  
"Eric!" Throwing his arms around his neck he felt Eric's taller body lift him off the ground.  
"You're alive, oh thank you. I thought I would never see you again."  
"I'm alright. And beyond glad to see you Alan. I love you."  
"I love you too." Both separated realizing something, they had all their memories back. From their first meeting, to their first dates, and work missions, to learning Eric was killing women for their souls and even going back to Earth remembering nothing of their former selves.  
"Eric Slingby." Both turned from each other keeping their hands together to face the judge. Both were worried over what his sentence would be, but no matter what Alan was not leaving Eric's side, not again.  
"Eric, you have been accused for the murder of nine hundred and ninety-nine women and the murder of fellow reaper Alan Humphries. You have been tested to prove that you're actions, while heinous were for an attempt to save Alan Humphries life from the Thorns of Death. Do you have any last words to say in your defense before you're ruling?"  
Looking over at Alan and feeling him squeeze his hand he looked back at the judge and said, "no your honor."  
"Very well. Eric Slingby you have passed the trial, your feelings for Alan Humphries are true and sincere. You are allowed to pass on the next world with Alan Humphries." Eric stood there in shock while Alan wrapped his hands around his neck to get himself closer to him.  
"Did you hear that Eric, you passed! I knew you would! I told you no matter we would meet again and you would prove that you loved me. We are soul mates; they were destined to be together forever in any world." Kissing his neck he felt Eric wrap his arm around his lower back to hold him close.  
"Thank you your honor. I can't thank you enough for this. Alan I am going to be with you. You won't have to face eternity alone." Changing how Alan faced him he brought their lips back together. Now he never had to say good-bye to those lips again.  
"We are done here. Enjoy the afterlife." With that the judge brought down his gavel and a doorway opened for them. Standing side by side, hand in hand they stepped through the portal and into paradise, together.

0o0o

Ronald's eyes opened to see himself in bed in his London home. What happened? He seemed to have a really strange dream. He had been reaping only to come across Eric, only this Eric had no memories of anyone or of anything. And how did he get here? He rarely stayed in the city when he wasn't on assignment. Getting out of bed he opened the closet to see Eric and Alan's death scythes missing. That was odd; he could have sworn he kept them here. Taking a coat out and slipping on his shoes he left the house. Going over a few blocks to another house he had access too he opened the front door and stepped inside. Something about the dream seemed so real to him, though he knew it wasn't possible since he had been told Eric had been killed, as had Alan. Everything seemed to be as he remembered. Going upstairs he stopped as he looked into the master bedroom. At the foot of the bed, leaning against it were Eric and Alan's scythes. They were forming an x, they must be together then. Good, that was all they wanted anyway, to spend forever together.  
"Enjoy yourself you guys. Just remember some of us have paperwork and a job still." Turning around to leave Ronald went back downstairs and left the house. He wasn't feeling in the mood to do anything with it today. Maybe tomorrow, he had forever, he could take his time.

"Close your eyes." Eric stood behind Alan covering his eyes.  
"Why do I have to close my eyes if you're going to cover them anyway."  
"So you can't peak. Now close them."  
"Alright, alright. There, they are closed."  
"Okay, you can open them in five," He had Alan take a step closer, "Four, three, two, okay open your eyes." Moving his hands Alan opened his eyes to see the inside of their new house finally completed.  
"Oh Eric."  
"What do you think?"  
"What do I think? It's amazing!"  
"I'm glad you like it." Leaning to rest his chin on Alan's shoulder he watched his face of amazement as he looked around. "I know the living room, from here looks like our old place but I liked the layout of our old place."  
"Yea. Me to."  
Eric saw the look of sadness quickly pass over Alan's face. It happened whenever they talked or mentioned something from their old lives.  
"He is doing fine Alan. Ronald is a strong kid."  
"I know. Just feels strange you know. Knowing we will never see him again."  
"Don't talk like that. I'm sure we could check on him from time to time. Maybe haunt him a little." Seeing Alan roll his eyes at him he smiled a little.  
"Oh come on haunting him could be a lot of fun and you know it."  
"You're terrible." Pushing him they both started laughing. Wrapping his arms around Alan he brought him closer.  
"I can't believe you're _now_ realizing this. But enough of this. I have one more surprise for you."  
"What?" Letting go of him Eric took his hand and brought him upstairs to where their bedroom laid.  
"I thought you weren't going to touch our bedroom."  
"I didn't." Opening the door he showed Alan the two scythes that rested against the foot of the bed.  
"Er…Eric, but how?" Taking a step closer Alan wanted to reach out and touch it.  
"It's obviously not the real thing but I was able to duplicate it. So I did. I know how much you miss yours even if you're no longer reaping. I figured we could spar again with them, like before. You know, me kicking your ass."  
"Pssh, your memory must still be screwed up because the way I remember it was you who always ended up losing. But really, Eric, thank you for this. All of this, it means so much to me."  
"You're welcome Alan. Anything for you, really. Nothing makes me happier than knowing you are happy." Reaching for his own scythe he realized how much his body missed just holding it.  
"Come on, let's go outside and see how well they work."  
"Okay." Grabbing his scythe they walked out one behind the other for a little afternoon spar. It was true then; the afterlife really was paradise then, especially when they had each other forever.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

I DID IT! I finally completed Find Me. I hope you all enjoyed it. I know I sure did, especially this chapter. It was one of my hardest but once I got past a part of it I just fell in love with it. Thanks for all the followers and reviews it is what kept me going and got me to get my butt in gear to continuing updating. Even though my updates were uneven to say the least. Well thanks again, please review. I love you all.  
~Femalefighter~


End file.
